‘Why do you think they would meet at that particular spot?’
‘It’s quiet enough. And the access is reasonably easy, especially if the rest of the team had a four-wheel-drive vehicle and drove up to the air shaft.’
‘It wasn’t particularly convenient for Neil Granger. He left his car in the lay-by, and walked up.’
‘We don’t know that he walked up. He may have been in someone else’s vehicle.’
‘True.’
‘At the scene, we’re intending to do a search of the surrounding
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area, but it’s mostly heather and bare peat - not much scope for hiding anything.’
‘And what about the air shaft?’ said Cooper.
‘What about it?’
‘There may be no scope for hiding anything in the heather, but what about inside the shaft?’
‘It’s too high to reach/ said Kitchens doubtfully.
‘If there was a vehicle here, they might have had a ladder. An aluminium stepladder in the back of an estate car or something. You could do it easily. In fact, if you piled some of these loose stones on top of each other, I reckon one person could give another a leg up, and they could get over the edge.’
‘I’ll make a note/ said Kitchens. ‘And we’ll let the task force do it. They have ladders.’
‘Was there anything in Neil Granger’s house?’
‘Nothing that has been recognized as an antique, anyway. Not unless you count a set of plaster ducks on the wall in the spare bedroom.’
‘Hey, those fetch quite a bit now/ said Murfin. ‘I saw some at an antiques fair the other day. I couldn’t believe the price. But the guy on the stall said they were kitsch, and most people had chucked them away when they went out of fashion. So they have a rarity value, if they’re genuine.’
‘But would you think of nicking them if you broke into somewhere full of proper antiques, Murfin?’
‘Probably not.’
‘And would you then hang them on the wall in your spare bedroom, with the grottiest wallpaper you could find?’
‘No.’
‘All right. So there were no other items that looked like stolen antiques. A team is going through all the addresses and phone numbers they could find in the property, but Granger wasn’t very organized, I’m afraid. And none of the names match any of the suspects on the Rural Crime Team’s list of possibles.’
‘He’d have to be more than disorganized to leave a list of his criminal associates lying around for us to find/ said Cooper.
‘Stranger things happen. Stupider criminals have been known.’
‘This one wasn’t stupid, sir. He hasn’t been making many mistakes.’
‘Apart from the one that got him killed.’
‘What about this black make-up business?’ said Murfin.
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‘OK, it’s an unusual form of disguise, but the make-up seems to have been conveniently at hand because of some theatrical group he was involved in rehearsals for.’ Hitchens looked around the room. ‘Anything else we haven’t covered?’
Diane Fry began to stir slightly on her chair near the front.
‘Oh, yes, we haven’t forgotten the possibility of a link to the disappearance of Emma Renshaw, who still hasn’t been found,’ said Hitchens.
It didn’t sound convincing to Cooper, and Fry didn’t look happy about it. There was a definite air of afterthought. But to his surprise, DCI Kessen seemed to latch on to the subject.
‘DS Fry, did you want to explore that a bit?’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Fry took a moment to gather her thoughts. Maybe she was equally surprised at being asked for her opinion. The do think we should bear in mind that Neil Granger was supposed to have been the last person to see Emma Renshaw before she disappeared. But we only ever had his word for that.’
Hitchens slipped naturally into the role of devil’s advocate.
‘Yes. But bear in mind that he didn’t have time between leaving the house and arriving at work to do anything much more than drop Emma off somewhere,’ he said. ‘If he didn’t drop her at the railway station, where did he take her? And why should he lie about it?’
‘It’s also true that we only have Neil Granger’s word for the time he left the house.’
‘But again, there was only a few minutes’ margin there. Alex Dearden left no more than ten minutes before Granger says he did. So the most we could allow him would be, say, twenty minutes.’
That’s time to do quite a lot,’ said Fry stubbornly.
‘To kill Emma and dispose of her body? I don’t think so.’
‘If he killed her in the house, her body could have been in the boot of his car while he was at work.’
‘Was his car forensically examined at the time?’ asked Kessen.
‘No, sir.’
‘That’s a pity. A wasted opportunity. It would at least have eliminated that possibility. Did he have the same car as the one we have in our possession now?’
‘I’m not sure, sir. I think so.’
‘If Emma Renshaw’s body was ever in the boot of his car, Forensics may still be able to get some traces. Bloodstains perhaps,
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or fibres. You could get that checked out at least, Fry.’
‘What about Alex Dearden?’ said Kitchens.
Fry shook her head. ‘I don’t see how he had time to do anything. Neil Granger saw him leave. And Granger admitted to being the last to see Emma.’
There’s always the possibility that they were in this together.’
Kessen looked at Fry apologetically. ‘I’d be more open to that kind of suggestion if you could offer me a motive. One of the boys, yes - an attempted rape, a rejected sexual advance, or something of the kind. We’ve seen it often enough. But two of them conspiring together? Were they particularly friendly?’
‘No, sir.’
‘So why should Dearden help out Granger, or vice versa?’
Even Diane Fry was silent at that.
‘Of course, Emma Renshaw might have decided she couldn’t afford a taxi,’ said Hitchens. ‘She might have set off to walk to the station, or to catch a bus, or hitch a lift.’
‘No one along the route to the station reported seeing her,’ said Fry. ‘In any case, it’s over four miles and she was carrying a bag. Bus drivers didn’t remember her, and no motorist ever came forward to report giving her a lift, or seeing her hitching.’
That’s not to say it didn’t happen, of course. It’s still open as an option.’
When the meeting broke up, Cooper watched Diane Fry walk over to speak to DI Hitchens. Perhaps she was pressing her case for Emma Renshaw not to be forgotten. Or maybe she just wanted to be seen to be with the senior officers, and not part of the crowd now squeezing their way towards the door. He waited, and after a few minutes, Fry came towards him.
‘OK, I’ve fixed it, Ben,’ said Fry.
‘Fixed what?’
‘I’ve fixed it for you to come to see the Renshaws with me. I want to get your view on them. Then you can go on to the Oxleys later.’
‘Oh, great.’
‘Have you thought of a new approach?’
‘Yes, I’d thought I’d just take a pile of interview forms and fill in the answers myself right now.’
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21
On the way into Withens, Ben Cooper and Diane Fry saw a youth walking along the side of the road. He was wearing cargo pants, a parka jacket and a black woollen hat pulled down over his ears.
‘Would that be one of the Oxley boys?’ said Fry.
‘Where?’
‘Walking along the road up ahead.’
‘It could be. Sean? Ryan? One of the two.’
‘And they’re what age?’
‘Fourteen, fifteen.’
Fry looked at her watch. ‘Why don’t we ask him why he isn’t at school? If he doesn’t actually have a note from his teacher on him, we could insist on giving him a lift home, then talking to his parents.’
‘It’s worth a try, I suppose.’
The youth glanced over his shoulder when he heard the car approaching. Maybe he had been intending to thumb a lift, but he didn’t bother when he saw them. He just carried on walking at the same pace, plodding along the narrow grass verge with his shoulders hunched inside his parka.
Fry slowed, indicated and pulled into the side of the road in front of him. The boy didn’t look up, but waited until the car had stopped, then suddenly turned and raced off across the heather away from the road.
‘Watch out, he’s legging it!’ said Fry.
‘Damn.’
By the time Cooper had released his seat belt and got out of the car, the youth was a couple of hundred yards away, his arms and legs flailing as he weaved and splashed across the boggy ground
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towards the nearest clough, where he would soon be out of sight.
Cooper sighed, recognizing the futility of a chase on foot.
‘Was it Ryan or Sean?’ said Fry.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, great.’
‘It was a good idea,’ said Cooper. ‘Just not good enough.’
‘Ben, what do you think of this antiques angle?’ said Fry as they got under way again.
‘It’s not for me to say, really.’
‘That’s cautious.’
‘But if there are some potential suspects …’
‘You’re thinking you might be wasting your time with the Oxleys?’
‘I know I’m wasting my time with the Oxleys, Diane. They’re never going to talk to me. It’s starting to make me feel like a leper.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Fry. ‘The Renshaws will be happy to talk to you. But only about one subject.’
Fry introduced Cooper to Howard and Sarah Renshaw, and he was allowed to sit on the settee next to Edgar the teddy.
‘Can I ask you something that may not appear very relevant?’ said Fry.
Howard Renshaw smiled faintly. ‘We’ve been asked so many questions that we’re hardly in a position to know what’s relevant and what isn’t any more. So go ahead.’
‘You’ve told me about your house in Marple, and how much you liked living there …’
‘Yes.’
‘From what I’ve heard, it sounds a very pleasant area. Nice neighbours, good schools, close to the countryside but near enough to get into Manchester or Sheffield easily. And you said you made lots of friends in the neighbourhood.’
That’s right. So what did you want to ask?’
‘What on earth,’ said Fry, ‘made you move to Withens?’
Sarah laughed. ‘Well, first of all, you have to realize that it was over twenty years ago, when Emma was very small. We were different people then.’
‘We were twenty years younger ourselves,’ said Howard. ‘I think that had a lot to do with it.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’
Howard perched on the arm of Sarah’s chair. Fry expected her
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to touch his arm or even hold his hand. Previously, it would have been the sort of gesture she would have noticed between them. But Sarah didn’t do that. Instead, she rearranged her skirt and held her hands in her lap.
‘The thing about Withens/ she said, ‘is that it’s a kind of separate world on its own. When we saw it, we realized it was nothing like all those nice commuter villages we’d known before. It was much more real. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Not exactly.’
There was something rather spiritual about it. To us, then, it seemed like the sort of place we wanted to bring up a child.’
Fry sneaked a glance at Cooper. His expression told her what she wanted to know. Maybe he was thinking of the Oxleys and having difficulty locating the spirituality.
‘We fell in love with Withens almost as soon as we saw it,’ said Howard.
‘Did you?’
‘It was summer when we first came/ said Sarah.
‘Yes?’
‘It can be a little difficult in the winter.’
Sarah laughed at her husband. ‘We were so innocent, weren’t we? One of the first things we did was take down a big stone wall at the back of the house. It must have been ten feet high, and we couldn’t understand why anybody had built it there. It didn’t seem to have any purpose at all - not something of that height.’
‘We made jokes about how high those nineteenth-century sheep must have been able to jump.’
‘Well, you made jokes,’ said Sarah.
‘As far as we were concerned, a wall that height was just blocking the view up the valley from the house. So we took it down.’
‘We had a much better view/ said Sarah. ‘For a while.’
‘What happened?’
‘Winter came. And it snowed.’
‘We realized why they had built a wall ten feet high/ said Howard. ‘It was because that was the height of the snow drifts. The snow came down the valley on the north winds, and we were the first place to get snowed in that winter. And since we’d taken the wall down, it drifted against the side of the house instead of being stopped by the wall.’
‘The first morning, we had to dig our way out of the door.’
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‘That was a particularly bad winter/ said Howard. ‘But that’s one of the things about Withens - you get the feeling that something like that could happen at any time. It’s as if nature is waiting to give you a sharp little nudge whenever you seem likely to forget about her.’
‘And that’s what makes Withens seem real?’ asked Fry.
‘It’s one of the things/ said Howard. ‘It seemed to us that a child should grow up knowing about nature and the seasons. And I think we were right. Emma is the sort of girl who belongs in the countryside. She has a special relationship with nature.’
‘You said one of the things. What else?’
‘There are the people, of course. They’re wonderful/
Fry stared at him. ‘Sorry. Are we still talking about Withens?’
‘Don’t you think they’re wonderful?’
‘Detective Constable Cooper knows the people here better than I do/
‘They’re interesting/ said Cooper. ‘No doubt about it. And some of them I can’t imagine living anywhere else/
Both the Renshaws looked at him as if he had said something very profound.
‘I’ve been trying to persuade Sergeant Fry to come to our Emma Day/ Howard told him. ‘You’re going to come, aren’t you, Sergeant?’
Fry wanted to bolt for it, but she couldn’t. Sarah seized on her hesitation eagerly.
‘Yes, you must both come. We need all the support you can give us, so we know you’ll come/
‘That would be wonderful/ said her husband. ‘We’re so grateful. So grateful for everything you’re doing for us/
Fry began to shake her head, but Sarah Renshaw had fastened her intense gaze on her.
‘Bring Constable Cooper with you/ she said. ‘He’ll appreciate Emma’s work/
There’ll be a little display in the garden, if the weather’s fine/ said Howard. ‘Down in Emma’s Corner/
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, we decided to plant a tree on Emma’s eighteenth birthday, and we wanted something significant. She always loved the buddleia, because of its scent and the way its flowers attract the butterflies in summer. They call it the Butterfly Bush, don’t they?’
‘I wouldn’t know/ said Fry, her gardening experience having
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been limited to dandelions growing in a window box.
‘We planted another one on the anniversary of the day she disappeared, as well as on her birthday. And the same again the following year. Now there’s a little grove of bushes at the bottom of the garden that holds another bit of Emma.’
‘Marking the days is important. The day she was due felt a bit like Easter.’
‘Easter? Not - resurrection?’
In a way. If we think about Emma hard enough on that day,
it seems as though she will actually walk in through the door and say she’s sorry for taking so long to come home. It hasn’t happened yet, of course. But perhaps that’s because we haven’t wished hard enough. What do you think?’
1 really don’t know.’
Then the Renshaws looked at each other, and flushed a bit pink. Both of them now had the beginnings of tears in their eyes.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ said Sarah to her husband.
‘It would be the ideal time to make contact,’ he said.
Fry thought they were still talking about support. It was a strange way of putting it, but lots of things were strange about the Renshaws.
‘Yes, that would help you a lot, wouldn’t it?’ said Sarah.
‘Sorry, what would?’
‘Making contact.’
‘I don’t really follow you. Contact with who?’
‘With the Other Side, of course.’
‘We thought that while you’re here,’ said Howard, ‘it would be the ideal opportunity to have a seance.’
‘We’ve been consulting a psychic, and using a pendulum to try to locate Emma,’ said Sarah. ‘It seemed very appropriate, because they’re things that Emma is interested in herself, anything mystical or supernatural. If we held a seance, you could ask all the things you want to.’
An uncomfortable silence followed. Fry wished that Cooper would say something. Why had she bothered going to the trouble of arranging for him to come with her, if he was just going to sit there and take it all in, saying nothing?
But then he did decide to speak. And Fry blessed him for changing the subject.
‘Mr and Mrs Renshaw, I wonder if you have any more photos
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of Emma? From around the time she went to university, I mean.’
‘Once she’d gone to university, we didn’t manage to take as many,’ said Sarah. ‘But there are a few.’
Howard fetched an album. ‘If we let you have this,’ he said, ‘we need it back for Monday.’
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